My Dearest Mr. Darcy

by Sharon Lathan

  She slipped her arms tight about his neck, fingers in his hair. “How can I not flatter a man as perfect as you, Mr. Darcy?”

  “I am warning you, Elizabeth!”

  She laughed gaily, kissing him again. “Very well, in all seriousness. All my emotions swirled and coalesced, as you know, and I finally accepted the truth of my feelings for you. I do not think I can fully separate my love for you from my love for Pemberley as they are so intertwined. When I thought you were lost to me, again, I was devastated primarily at never being able to hold you and confess my feelings, but also with the reality that I would never see Pemberley again. Your home had surrounded me and entered my soul. I did not recognize just how much until after we were married. You remember how nervous I was as we approached the Manor after our wedding?” He nodded. “It was not merely because I feared being a good Mistress and making you proud; it was equally because I knew instinctively that Pemberley deserved an excellent Mistress and I feared myself not up to the task. I had already given her a personality all her own; she was as real as you or me and I did not want to disappoint her. It was then that I realized my love for a house! Over the next weeks it grew, and before our first month was complete, I understood what it truly meant to be connected to land and heritage.”

  He was softly stroking her face, smiling tenderly as they stared into each other's eyes. Lizzy reached one finger to trace his lips, speaking quietly, “Can I tell you something, dearest, without hurting your feelings?”

  “Of course.”

  “When we get home, I do not want to go on any other adventures for a very long time. Naturally, it would be unwise,” she said with a laugh and pat to her belly, “but mainly I want to abide, truly abide, at Pemberley. With you and Georgiana and our son and whatever guests visit, but always with the familiar walls around me and our bed to sleep in. For the first time in my life I truly have a home that is mine, will forever be mine, and I want to savor it.”

  “I promise we shall stay put, my love. However, I will remind you of your words when another long winter of snow and endless spring of rains causes you to lose your mind from the forced confinement!”

  Lizzy laughed, again rubbing over her belly. “I think I shall have plenty to consume my time.”

  Darcy chuckled, lacing his long fingers through hers on the soft bulge of their child. He leaned for a kiss, pulling her further into his chest while gently reclining their bodies onto the sun-warmed blanket. The cushiony sand gave way under the weight, molding around their forms. Darcy's enormous coat covered them completely, shielding Lizzy from the whiffs of breeze as bare legs were exposed by a seeking hand.

  Lizzy caressed over his chest, leisurely wending her way down his torso to groin, while kissing playfully with little nibbles and suckles as Darcy adored. He was dressed in his favorite gray overcoat, shirt open and no vest, his face stubbly and hair in sleeping disarray. Lizzy was always thrilled with his casual clothing and disheveled appearance, the combination of pounding surf and kindled daybreak enhancing the sensations.

  “Hmm… William, I love you.”

  He withdrew from her lips with a faint moan, grasping her fondling hand. “Elizabeth, we should return to our room.”

  She opened her eyes in surprise. “I know you well, my lover. Do not tell me you have not dreamt of making love on the beach! I have seen your eyes rest on the sand when we bathe, with that singular expression I know indicates you are musing on making love.”

  “Decadent imaginings are not necessarily translated to reality, beloved. We are quite exposed here and I cannot allow my passion for you to overrule my judgment.”

  “Your judgment is flawed. It is barely six in the morning; no one arises this early, except for the servants, and they have no reason to come here. The bathing machines are not utilized until ten and shield us well. It is not yet fully daylight so our shadows will meld with the rocks, and your large coat will cover us. Since I rather enjoy making love to you clothed like this, it is an additional bonus for me.”

  She finished with a smug smirk, grabbing a thick lapel and pulling him roughly to her upturned lips. He relented for several blissful moments, hands intimately moving over her body. With a frantic gasp elicited by her purposefully stimulating hands, Darcy attempted to withdraw.

  “Obviously you have given this serious contemplation, but I still deem it risky. Elizabeth! Desist!”

  With a throaty chuckle and devious smile, she whispered, “You cannot return to the inn in your current condition anyway, Fitzwilliam. Therefore, you may as well search about to ease your mind as to our solitude, and then grant me what I demand. You know I shall prevail in the end anyway.”

  He stared at her, lips twitching as he attempted to maintain a stern glare. It was thoroughly impossible to do so when she was so beautiful and desirable with the rays of sunlight dappling her flawless face; lush, pert lips set in a succulent pout.

  “What has happened to the sweet, innocent girl I fell in love with?”

  “She married you, my marvelous lover. Alas, she is corrupted for life, naughty and wanton, a tigress by your own admission. Wipe the transparently false disapproval from your face, Mr. Darcy; the sun is rising higher and we are wasting precious time.”

  He caved, shaking his head and laughing as he rose. A quick scan and circuit around the machines proved the asserted fact that they were utterly alone. The majority of the beach and resort on the bluff above were yet sunk in shadow, only the few flickering lights visible at lower level windows. Briskly he strode to where Elizabeth waited, now sitting up and watching as he approached, coat billowing as he walked his uniquely powerful gait. He knelt by her knees, but before he could lay her back onto the sand, she encircled his waist with a firm clasp and squeeze.

  Darcy grinned, lacing lean fingers through her trailing hair as she attended with devoted caresses. Of course, she was correct; he was helpless to resist her allurement and advances. The man of caution and towering regulation was shattered before the onslaught of her love. How she excited him and fulfilled him was infinitely beyond any dream he had ever entertained. He honestly believed the entire resort population could walk by and he would not notice, nor care.

  “Fitzwilliam,” she whispered as they loved, nibbling on an earlobe while his hot breath rushed over her neck in cadence with his tireless motions, “are your daydreams and fantasies being fulfilled?”

  He lifted with a groan, arching and slowing until physically able to speak. “Truthfully? Oh God, Elizabeth! Wait!” He gasped, staring at her with glazed eyes. “I… I visualized us totally naked, rolling about on the hot sand in broad daylight. Completely impossible, naturally. This… Lizzy, my wife… every time is a gift with you.”

  Lizzy gazed up at her husband, resplendent with his morning face flushed and hair tousled, half dressed with flowing coat perfectly accentuating his masculinity. He was stupendous, abundantly gratifying every dream she conjured.

  Several nearby birds squawked and flapped away in fright at the shouts emerging from the rocks, but no other life forms were aware of the rapture attained on the sand. The Darcys would be mistaken to assume they were the only couple to ever watch the sunrise and take advantage of the isolation. Luckily they were the only ones to pick this particular day, but the resort staff had more than once needed to discreetly steer a tiptoeing couple in an opposite direction.

  Sneaking back into their room without being noticed was a bit problematic as more staff members were about. Still, the servants skillfully glanced in the opposite direction or busied themselves at some task until the Darcys passed by. Their faces were rosy with embarrassment, but both agreed the outing was worth any humiliation. Once in their room they laughed giddily like children, randomly dropped their sandy coats and the blanket, and commenced kissing and embracing with joyful enthusiasm.

  “Elizabeth, I am as foolhardy and nonsensical as a youth when around you! And as amorous. Lord, what you do to me!” He grasped her bottom and pulled her tight, fingers trave
ling to the buttons down her back as he assaulted her mouth.

  The zealous embrace continued until Darcy laced one broad hand through the wildly tangled hair on the back of her head, whereupon Lizzy frantically reached to where his fingers were with a gasp.

  “My hair clip! It's gone!”

  “Which clip?”

  “The one with the pink flowers on it. Oh, I love that clip!” She was searching around the floor at their feet, Darcy joining the visual exploration, but it was nowhere in the room. “It is an old one of mine and not that important really, but I have had it for years.”

  “Shhh, relax, dearest. It is surely somewhere between here and the rocks. I will go look for it.”

  “I am sorry, William.”

  “For what? I have already had one of the best mornings in my life. I can wait to make love with you again for a few more hours,” he grinned cheekily and kissed her lightly, Lizzy laughing.

  “Thank you. I love you.”

  “I know,” he said with an airy wave from the door.

  The lost clip was discovered on the last step before the second level landing, a servant bending to retrieve it as Darcy rounded the corner. Darcy maintained his dignity, exchanged vague pleasantries, and thanked the servant who calmly handed it over.

  Smiling happily and whistling cheerily, Darcy absently fiddled with the clip as he turned toward the stairs for the third floor where his adorable wife was awaiting his return, hopefully unclothed on their bed. Lost in visions so delectable, he did not notice a door opening until Lady Underwood was standing five paces away blocking his path. He halted abruptly, the silly grin erased instantly for a deep scowl.

  In the intervening days since her disgusting proposition, Lady Underwood had made one additional overture toward Darcy. On the afternoon after the Phantasmagoria he walked along the garden pathway toward the wooden stairs on the northern side of the pier that led to the beach where the men bathed. She leaned casually against the trunk of a birch that grew on the edge of the path, the location clearly deliberate to waylay a walker as there was nothing in the area of interest. Darcy was not overly surprised to see her boldly lurking on the path since he had caught her eyes on him frequently in the ensuing days. She would smile in a mildly seductive manner, her eyes brazenly running over his body in a way that made him want to retch. Thus far he had managed to avoid her, but he knew her kind and figured she would renew her advance if at all possible.

  Darcy did not slow his pace and instantly turned his gaze away after the briefest of eye contact in hopes that she would leave him be. Alas, it was not her intention to be ignored.

  Her sultry voice pierced the placid silence, “Mr. Darcy, I have been expecting you. You are a creature of habit, I have deduced, as well as one who appreciates vigorous exercise.” Her eyes dropped briefly below his waist although the double entendre was obvious nevertheless. “I can assist you in the latter and have been waiting patiently for your acceptance of my offer.”

  She stepped into the path, her hand already extended toward him. Darcy veered to the side, extreme fury rising so abruptly that he honestly did not trust his control if she touched him or obstructed his passage. Fortunately the hazard was deflected.

  “Darcy! I hope you are up for a vigorous swim and muscle exertion as the surf is rough today.” It was Mr. Henner, the older man suddenly visible through the thick bushes lining that portion of the curved path to the north. The irony of his innocent phrasing was not lost on either Darcy or Lady Underwood, her chuckle thankfully only audible to Darcy as she turned and smoothly hid behind the tree.

  After that, convinced of her persistence and cunning, Darcy was extremely cautious. He angrily observed her false friendship with Elizabeth, who had no idea of her true nature or treachery as Darcy refused to allow her antics to invade their delightful holiday. He prayed that she would depart the inn, but each evening she was there in the salon, flirting and chatting. He strongly suspected that her claws had dug successfully into a couple of other gentlemen, noting oblique glances and touches, which sickened him, as one was a married man as well. Again, Darcy was not naïve, but the activity revolted him nonetheless.

  Fortunately he and Elizabeth were almost always together and alone, neither desiring to socialize overly. But three times in the past two days Darcy was forced to change direction or abruptly engage one of the other guests in conversation to avoid Lady Underwood accosting him. He surrounded himself with other gentlemen on their walks to the beach or the few manly pursuits that separated him from Elizabeth. He was exceedingly careful, but now it appeared as if his luck had run out. With his mind on other matters his caution was forgotten, and the early hour meant that the corridor was devoid of anyone and likely to stay that way.

  “Mr. Darcy, what a pleasant surprise.” She wore a dressing gown and robe, her hair braided and hanging over one shoulder. She was a beautiful lady, no doubt, but also quite aware of her beauty and equally aware of the effect of her attractiveness on men, an effect she utilized as a spider did its web.

  “Lady Underwood,” he replied with a proper bow and eyes diverted, already taking a step to the left to pass her. “Good morning. Excuse me.”

  She moved as well, Darcy again forced to halt or bowl her over. “Your color is high this morning with vigor radiating. You are well, I can see.”

  “I am very well, but in a hurry. Good day, my lady.”

  “Oh, it shall be a good day indeed. I am very well also, Mr. Darcy. Improving by the moment, in fact. I heard your voice but waited until the servant left. I was beginning to doubt you would come to me. So much pleasure has been missed, but we shall rectify that, won't we?”

  Darcy was stunned. Bold propositions he had seen, yes, but this transcended them all. For several seconds he was honestly speechless, staring at her lewd expression in frank amazement.

  “Lady Underwood…”

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy,” she interrupted, her voice very low as she stepped nearer and lay one hand on his arm. “No need for discussion or further hesitancy. You should not stand about in the hallways. You would not want your sweet wife to know of our activities.”

  He jerked his arm violently away, supreme anger overcoming his surprise. “Lady Underwood, you are horribly mistaken. I am retrieving an item for my wife and merely passing by.”

  He again sidestepped to walk around her, but she reached out with a steely grip to his wrist, halting him and moving even closer until touching his body with her breasts. Her whisper was husky but with a hint of menace, “Come, Mr. Darcy. Be reasonable. A man like you needs his urges satisfied and I am willing. There is no logic in resisting.”

  Darcy's rage was monumental, only supplanted by his intense disgust. “Let me pass before I am forced to inflict harm upon you. You disgust me and I can assure you nothing will ever happen between us.”

  “You would be wise to rethink your refusal. I am accustomed to getting what I want and will find a way to secure my wishes. I would rather Mrs. Darcy not be hurt. She is a dear girl and would be crushed to discover that her beloved spouse seduces unescorted, fragile women.”

  Darcy's voice was icy, “I am warning you, leave Mrs. Darcy alone or the consequences will be extremely unpleasant. Now, unhand me instantly. A scene and subsequent scandal would not benefit either of us. Let us drop this unpleasant topic.”

  “Now you are mistaken, sir. The topic is a very pleasant one, for both of us. Please do not necessitate me causing trouble for you. I do have some influence, but would rather our relationship be mutually satisfactory, and voluntary.”

  Darcy was livid, face dark and rigid with an anger seldom experienced and rarely manifested toward an individual. Despite her bluster, Lady Underwood paled and instinctively released his arm and retreated a step. Darcy stiffened to his full height, towering over the petite woman as his entire body hardened with unmistakable menace. When he spoke, his voice was glacial, but terrifyingly composed and low.

  “Listen very carefully, my lady. What you a
re asking will never happen. Furthermore, it is you who are unwise if you believe for one second you can threaten Darcy of Pemberley. I know who you are and know your reputation. I suggest you inquire of these 'influences' you state you have. You will discover the extreme error in your judgment regarding me and the power you think you have. I assure you that my power vastly transcends yours. In the meantime, stay away from me and from my wife, or it is I who will be causing the trouble. Are we clear?”

  To her credit, Lady Underwood remained collected under her pallor, but her eyes were frightened and her voice faint. “Very clear, Mr. Darcy.”

  UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES, DARCY was thankful to find his wife in her bath. By the time they reunited for breakfast his anger was dimmed to a simmering irritation and well buried. His joy at seeing and touching his beautiful Elizabeth was genuine and purifying to his soul. Lady Underwood was not about as they descended, fortunately; the Darcys breaking their fast and leaving shortly thereafter for a day trip into Great Yarmouth.

  Once tucked comfortably into the coach with windows open, Darcy inhaled deeply of the tangy air, twined fingers with Lizzy as she turned a brilliant smile his direction, and felt the final vestiges of his chagrin dissolve. Aside from the sheer elation found in the presence of his beloved wife, there was also the anticipated delight in today's outing.

  Great Yarmouth, or Yarmouth as the locals referred, was one of the few North Sea–located towns famous as a seaside resort. It held this distinction since 1760, when one of England's first seaside bath houses utilizing the chill water of the ocean was constructed here. The narrow strip of flat, sandy dunes situated between the medieval walled Rows east of the River Yare and the pebbly beach bore the unusual name Denes. Unique in all of England, the Denes had for centuries served as a haven for cattle grazing, for fishermen to dry their nets, and for the community to relegate other unpleasant tasks, such as criminal hangings, from the citizens safe inside the thick walls. This remained the status quo until wise and greedy city entrepreneurs recognized the financial advantage to cashing in on the seabathing phenomena by expanding on the existing wells and building a bath house. The mile-long expanse of finely churned sandy beach coupled with the wide barrenness of the Denes created the ideal environment. Great Yarmouth's economy subsequently exploded. Herring and mackerel fishing would endure as a primary industry, but tourism boomed. The ancient jetty near the bath house was rebuilt and reinforced until eventually extending 456 feet out to sea, providing both a stupendous view and exhilarating sense of the open ocean.